


The Things You See In A Graveyard

by Lunarium



Series: SSSS: Saga of the Mages (aka Mageverse) [14]
Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Halloween, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 11:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8400547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: How Lalli Hotakainen became a ghost sighting in Iceland.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A slightly early Halloween treat! :D I wrote this after my Spook Me story's ending made me a tad miserable. The prompt that inspired this is 42. Standing Still from the SSSS 100 Prompts Challenge. 
> 
> Title for fic comes from a song of the same title from the Repo! The Genetic Opera soundtrack. :D 
> 
> Many thanks to IdleLeaves for beta-reading this! :D

Stari Orrason checked the map for perhaps the hundredth time. He certainly didn’t remember crossing this road before, but it was near impossible to tell in the dark. It had been hours before when he came by here on his way to deliver the goods. He just had to stop for a bit of rest, and something to eat, and perhaps converse with some of the locals. It could get lonely cooped up in the farm night and day. He had his parents and siblings and cousins, but a bit of friendship outside of the family didn’t hurt, and preferably someone who belonged in the same species, as Möörk could only take so much of his rambling before swatting him away with her tail when he was done milking her. 

With that all said, he lost track of time. The sun set much earlier in autumn, something he was still getting used to. 

And now he was out here driving, lost. 

Heaving a deep sigh, Stari was at least thankful there was nothing to fear out here like ghosts or trolls or giants. This was Iceland, after all.

*

With a final satisfied moan, Lalli stood up and stretched, looking radiant under the moonlight.

“How are you doing?” he asked with a small wicked grin, though he of course perfectly knew. Reynir could scarcely catch his breath. Still shaking, he attempted to push himself up by his elbows.

“I’m sure the dates on my great grandfather’s gravestone are imprinted on my butt forever,” he said. Though Lalli spoke Finnish to him, he replied back in Icelandic. It was a mark of the time spent together than both knew enough of the other’s language to be able to converse in such manner. 

Lalli laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the breeze against his face, and Reynir, enthralled by the appearance, had to shake himself before he was aroused again. They had not come in here just for the intimacy. There was a place for that—and time they could allow for it—in their very busy schedule, but somehow their exploration of the cemetery had turned into ravenous pleasure atop poor Árni Reynisson’s grave. “There is something about this place—”

“We’re inside a graveyard for mages, Lalli! Something in the air here must have…enchanted us.” Reynir gave a tiny squeak. “You don’t think the spirits of the deceased saw us?” 

“Let them!” Something in the air was definitely making Lalli uncharacteristically giddy. Or perhaps it was just aftermath of the sex. “I hope we gave them a good show! I want to explore more—right now!” 

Reynir reeled back. “Lalli…you’re scaring me. You’re usually not this…excited. And please put some clothes on.” 

“I’m too warm!” 

“Not for long! You’ll catch a cold!” 

“I’ll come back when I get cold!” 

And off he went.

*

This was wonderful, Lalli thought with a content, peaceful smile. The magical atmosphere here got him and Reynir in a great mood. There was so much more to explore here that they may need to return the next day; Árni Reynisson had a lot of secrets still to uncover, but Lalli was more curious to find any information on Katla’s father.

“Katla Galdursdóttir,” Lalli said under his breath. “Galdur…what would your surname be? Where would you be buried? Did you know of dear old Árni and Elva, or perhaps their daughter Reyn?” 

He was crossing a gravel path when suddenly he was bathed in light. Whipping towards the source, his eyes fell on a pair of wide eyes and a shocked face behind the windshield of a small snake-car.

*

“Damn it, I missed the road!” Stari cursed under his breath. He wasn’t sure what road he had just turned onto. Perhaps some lucky bastard’s manor driveway? No, a dratted cemetery. A drive around and he would be back on the road and hopefully back on the farm.

But no sooner had he settled on this plan when his headlights fell on a white figure on the pathway. Slamming on the breaks, he cussed loudly as the figure turned towards him and froze.

*

Lalli’s mind went blank, suddenly feeling very naked. He had not a single stitch of clothing on him. He hoped the marks of passion with Reynir earlier were not visible on him now. The chill of the October night was starting to get to him, but he willed his body to not even shiver.

Standing still, he remained silent, staring into the eyes of the other man expressionless. 

The only thing he could not prevent were his eyes giving a momentarily glow of blue. 

That seemed to rile the man into action.

*

What Stari Orrason saw: a ghostly white figure, naked and emaciated. The stuff of nightmares: monstrous and hideous and pale. It stared right into him, unseeing, a mockery of life. Stari would have tried to be the hero that night, would have tried running it over, but then its eyes glowed blue, and his mind snapped.

“Not tonight, patron of Helheim!” Stari screamed as he reversed his pickup truck, shooting out of the cemetery, and then fled down the road at top speed.

*

Lalli spoke nothing of the incident to Reynir until much later, while they were dining at a small cafe nearest the cemetery. It wasn’t that Lalli wanted to approach the subject. He had no plan of telling Reynir that perhaps he was right, that perhaps Lalli should not have gone walking around a strange cemetery late at night post-coitus in the nude. It was a mistake Lalli was willing to, to use the pun, take to the grave.

The subject simply made itself known to them in that very cafe, for the same weird man was there, and his frantic blithering to the authorities reached them. 

“Sir, reports by other mages are that ghosts are not white in color—”

“I am telling you, this ghost was as as white as snow!” 

Reynir leaned back, getting a better glimpse before his face paled. 

“I know him!” he whispered to Lalli. “I used to—well, not _date_ him, we were both very young still. But we were something like boyfriends once. Almost ten years ago. We shared our first kiss.”

“Oh?” Lalli said, keeping his face stoic. He knew about Stari, but didn’t know how he looked. “Small world.” 

“He’s talking about ghosts…white ghosts…but we both know ghosts aren’t ‘white as snow.’” Reynir kept glancing back, trying to get as much information while trying not to be noticed by his former teenhood flame. “And…a cemetery. What cemetery is he talking abou—Lalli! Lalli, did this have something to do with you?” 

Lalli took another sip from his drink, vaguely wondering if Reynir’s ass was still smarting from his great-grandfather’s tombstone. “Small world…”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration for fic is based on [this Tumblr post](http://trashfirefallon.tumblr.com/post/150522692295/i-had-sex-in-a-graveyard-and-was-walking-around).


End file.
